


You'll Miss Me When I'm Not Around

by oneshycrow (orphan_account)



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Ill add more as i update - Freeform, Mental Health Issues, References to Depression, Violence, Why are tags so hard?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:35:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23559223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/oneshycrow
Summary: She felt like a wild animal in a cage, forced to pace back and forth, wasting away for the rest of her existence, watching the world outside move on without her.The Lone Wanderer deals with life before her escape from the vault. Growing up is hard, especially when paired with a shitty job, an absent parent, the existential dread of being stuck in one place for the rest of her life, and an annoying asshole who can't seem to leave her alone.
Relationships: Butch DeLoria/Female Lone Wanderer, Butch DeLoria/Lone Wanderer
Kudos: 11





	You'll Miss Me When I'm Not Around

Olivia leaned against the counter, her cheek resting on the cool, metal surface as she stared blankly ahead at the empty red booths in the diner. It had been a slow day, so she pulled an extra stool out from storage and had been sitting there, bored, for the past few hours.

It had been a few weeks since the G.O.A.T. results had branded her future, designating her as the vault’s one-and-only fry cook. It wasn’t the worst job in the world, certainly better than burning garbage, but it definitely wasn’t what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 

To top it all off, her hopes that she would be busy enough for time to go quickly were crushed relatively soon into her workdays. Besides the rush around breakfast, lunch, and dinner most people were content to eat at home or grab a quick bite at one of the many vending machines scattered around the vault. Outside of designated mealtimes, her workday consisted of preparing lunchmeat sandwiches, thawing out prepackaged salads, soups, and various other mush, and frying the occasional Salisbury steak for Officer Gomez before he snuck back home to enjoy his wife’s strict fat, sodium, sugar, and carb free dinners.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t bored to death in this dump. She passed her time by reading books, fiddling with a handheld game she had Stanley install on her pip-boy, or with the occasional doodle in her sketchbook. She cursed herself for not taking the test more seriously, and though her father would never chastise her for where she landed in the list of careers, she could tell he was disappointed she wouldn’t be joining him in the lab. 

She jerked back to reality when she heard the diner’s door slide open, alerting her to a customer’s presence. She stood up straight as a rod, pushing the stool out and rubbing the red spot where her cheek had stuck to the metal counter. She was about to give the stale greeting she was taught until she saw who it was. She frowned and skulked as she saw Christine Kendall, pearly smile as always, dragging none other than Butch Deloria into the diner. Her shrill voice immediately pierced Olivia’s ears and she winced, so used to there only being the droning sound of the fryers and freezers at this time of day. 

Christine perked up when she saw Olivia, letting go of Butch’s hand to walk up to the counter. Butch plopped into a booth and watched her, his eyes drifting to meet Olivia’s. He flashed her a toothy grin and she scowled. 

“I completely forgot you worked here now, Olive!” Christine gushed, smoothing out the curls in her hair. Olivia feigned a weak smile, trying to ignore the annoyance at the use of her childhood nickname as well as the pure envy that boiled in her stomach when she was around the other girl. Though she had a better job than Christine, she still couldn’t help but feel that same pit of jealousy in her at the other girl’s appearance and stature. Her hair, her makeup, her selection of vault-issued dresses, even the way she held herself reeked of the kind of confidence and authority that Olivia could only dream about. 

“Hah, yeah,” Olivia replied, unsure of what to say as she rubbed the back of her neck. She slid Christine two plastic menus and turned to slip some disposable gloves on. 

“It must suck, having to be here all the time, huh?” Christine said with an air of haughtiness. Olivia winced. That was the thing. Although Christine had a more undesirable job, it was relatively straightforward and didn’t require many long hours. 

Olivia, on the other hand, was stuck at the diner for nine to ten hours a day every day of the week, not even including early morning prep and late-night cleaning. She’d lost what little of a life she had, especially since Amata spent most of her time shadowing her father up in his office and her own father constantly pulled all-nighters at the lab. Whatever solace she had in her friend, her dad, and even her sessions with her BB gun down in the shooting range near the reactor were replaced with frying food, cleaning tables, and sitting on her ass doing nothing of substance.

“Sure. I guess so.” Olivia said with a huff, trying not to seem irritated as she shuffled a bit in place and waited for Christine to order. She felt hot and itchy, and one glance to the side told her that Butch was still fixing that piercing look at her. What was his deal, anyway? They’d always been antagonistic toward each other, picking fights in the hallways between classes, pulling childish pranks, and occasionally even seriously getting angry at one another. Now, they’d barely spoken to or seen each other since school let out - other than mealtimes when everyone packed into the diner at once.

Christine’s impatient ‘ _ahem_ ’ brought Olivia back to reality. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring at Butch and when she noticed she looked away as though she’d been burnt. She could hear his snort from across the room and her face burned in embarrassment. What was _wrong_ with her?

“Anyway... I’ll have the Dandy Boy Apple Salad and Butchie wants a burger and milkshake.” Christine said matter-of-factly, sliding the menus in a neat pile back to Olivia. She cringed at Christine’s nickname for him, holding back a theatrical gag.

“Sounds good, I’ll work on that for you guys,” Olivia said with a smile, thankful to finally have some reason to leave them alone and focus on something else. “Feel free to put something on the jukebox.” She hoped to god they did, she did not want to hear whatever they were going to talk about. 

Olivia pulled out the ingredients; ground meat of some kind, crunchy lettuce, onion, tomato, a box of Dandies, and two buns. The ingredients weren’t fresh by any means, what few meat and veggies they had that weren’t freeze-dried, pickled, jellied, or instant were grown in the hydroponics lab her father and Jonas spent so much time in. It wasn’t as luxurious as the diners they all used to watch in their Vault-Tec issued home movies. The milkshake was chocolate powdered milk blended with water and ice instead of fresh soft serve and the ketchup for the burger was well over 200 years old, but Olivia liked to think she was a rather good cook despite it all.

Though Christine had slotted a token into the jukebox and picked out a jazzy song, Olivia could still hear her giggling over the singer’s smooth voice. She felt a twang of loneliness as she glanced at them out of the corner of her eye and saw them snuggled together in the booth, Christine chattering like a bird and Butch nodding along, carving something into the table with his toothpick. She told herself she wasn’t jealous of Christine hanging out with Butch, just that she was lonely in general. Her usual lightheartedness she felt in the kitchen faded away and was replaced with a deep melancholy. She missed her friend, she missed her dad, hell she even missed just being around her peers in class. This job was incredibly solitary and everyone who came in had their own business to attend to so they barely paid her any attention. She felt sort of like a robot whose only purpose was to stand behind the counter and smile.

She finished the food and plated it neatly, topping the milkshake with a dollop of whipped cream and a maraschino cherry, before carrying the plates out to them. She laid them carefully in front of the couple, standing back and waiting to see if they needed anything else. Christine pulled away from Butch for a moment to put the dressing on her salad and Butch grabbed the cherry and popped it into his mouth, continuing to level Olivia with that same smug grin. 

“Thanks for dinner, nosebleed.” He said with a wink, pulling the cherry stem out of his mouth and flicking it back onto his plate. She scoffed at him and turned away, retreating behind to counter to clean up.

\- - - 

It was late at night when Olivia finished her cleaning and clocked out. It was pitch black save for the few emergency lights in the hallway as she locked the diner door behind her, entering in her designated pin to seal the doors. 

“Finally done? _Sheesh_ , that took forever.” Olivia jumped out of her skin and almost shrieked when she heard Butch’s voice to her left. He barked out a sharp laugh, putting his hands up in surrender and pushing off the wall next to the door. She clutched her chest and let out a breath, shooting him a glare as she tried to calm herself.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that!” She snapped, crossing her arms. “What the hell are you even doing here?” 

Butch just shrugged, flicking his lighter open and closed. “Just bored, didn’t wanna go home.” He muttered, his grin disappearing as a flame flickered to life from his lighter, illuminating his features to show a serious expression. 

Olivia pursed her lips, deciding if she should just ignore him and go home. She’d been seeing more of him recently, and he’d been attempting to make conversation. It was just strange. Sure they’d talk before school had left out, but it was mostly to sling insults at each other. Now, they just had no business around each other. But, still, there he was.

“Well, I had to lock the door. Overseer’s orders.” She said empathetically, remembering the times he would sleep there if his mom caused too much of a ruckus. That was actually the reason the Overseer forced her to lock up. Something about theft – though why it would matter if Butch stole some shitty frozen food with no way to cook it, she didn’t know.

Butch just shrugged, flicking his lighter shut again, and leaving them in the dim red light of the emergency sign that was always illuminated in the hallway. Hanging above the door of the diner and pointing in the direction of the stairwell in bold capital letters was the word ‘EXIT’, which was ironic to Olivia considering they lived in one giant box with no real way of leaving. Where exactly they were supposed to exit to if something did happen, she had no idea.

“You could always go crawl back up Christine’s skirt if you’re this bored.” She said with a smirk, deciding that if they were going to speak, they may as well get on each other’s nerves again. Butch shot her a lecherous grin and shrugged. 

“Been there enough tonight already.” He said smoothly and Olivia vocally gagged, causing him to laugh. 

“You disgust me.” She said with a laugh before turning and starting down the hallway to her apartment. She expected him to go along his way, maybe break into the diner despite the lock, but much to her surprise he fell in line with her.

She stopped, glancing at him curiously. “Did you want something?” She asked, rubbing her eyes and glancing down at the clock on her pip-boy. It was around one in the morning and they were past curfew. She had an excuse because of work, but his barbershop closed at eight and was on the opposite end of the vault.

“Dunno. I just haven’t seen you outside of that grimy diner in a while. You could use a haircut, ya know.” He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to look nonchalant.

“Thanks, I couldn’t tell.” She said sarcastically. “It’s not like I’m ever off work when you’re open, though.” Olivia screwed up her face at him, brushing away her bangs that fell a bit too long in front of her eyes. No doubt they were greasy and frizzled from a day spent wearing a hairnet. She suddenly felt very self-conscious.

Though she did need a trim, and she would admit it. The last time she got her hair cut she had to close the diner for a few hours and use a few of her ration coupons to ‘make up for the loss of profit’ or whatever bullshit the Overseer had decided on. That was the first reason she didn’t want to do that again unless she absolutely had to – the paperwork was fucking annoying. 

The second reason, she would never admit to anyone – it was weird having Butch touch her. His hands were gentle and skilled when he washed and cut her hair, and though it was a pleasant experience and he was good at what he did, she wasn’t a fan of how it made her feel. It was too intimate, and although she was probably overthinking things because of her situation, she just couldn’t handle those kinds of feelings right now. Not when she was this lonely and devoid of human contact. She would not let the only enjoyable moment of her life with another person be Butch Deloria cutting her hair. And she definitely could not allow herself to keep having the kind of dreams that sort of contact began to conjure up. 

Butch clicked his tongue as if thinking about something. “I could always stay open a bit late for ya, or open early, or whatever,” he said, and Olivia’s eyes widened. 

Was Butch actually being thoughtful? What alternate universe was she in where Butch fucking Deloria did anything for anyone? He was definitely pranking her, and though she would normally brush it off or throw it back in his face like when they were younger, she had gotten more sensitive in the past few months and didn’t want to deal with it.

“No thanks.” She said coldly, brushing past him and walking swiftly around the corner to get away from him.

“Hey!” Butch called, jogging around the corner to catch up to her. She gritted her teeth in annoyance and whipped around to face him.

“God, what do you want!?” She snapped. Butch stopped and just glared at her.

“Jesus, Liv, what’s you’re fuckin’ problem? I was just trying to do you a favor.” He said, crossing his arms. Olivia threw her arms up in the air as if the answer were obvious.

“You! You’re my problem! Don’t you have anyone else to annoy? Or did everyone finally have enough of your shit? You never did me any favors before, and I don’t believe that you’re about to start.” She all but yelled at him, her annoyance sending an irritating prickle up her spine as she tried to keep her voice down.

“Why are you such a bitch?” Butch said and stepped closer, his voice rising to a level just below a shout. 

“Why are you so annoying? Leave me alone!” She snapped and shoved him away, resisting the urge to start a fight. Trying to calm herself, she turned and quickly started to walk away. 

“It’s not like you have anything better to do with your life!” He called after her, stalking behind her and grabbing her arm to make her stop. “Maybe I have something important to say, how would you know? You’re so damn bitter anymore. This might be why Amata’s fuckin’ avoiding you!”

He hit a nerve with that, and she could tell he knew. There was a shine of triumph in his eyes as she whipped around to face him again. It was enough to make her patience snap and she swung at him with full strength, fury in her eyes. She couldn’t hold back anymore, all her pent-up anger, loneliness, and sadness breaking through in a single moment.

Butch dodged the swing and stepped aside, letting her tumble. She fell to the ground, her knees and palms scraping as they broke her fall before she leaped back to her feet. Her eyes were met with Butch’s mischievous ones, gleaming in the dim light. So he thought this was a joke? He thought they were just messing around like they always did? That made her even angrier. No one could tell she was in so much pain. This was going to be the rest of her existence; alone with no friends or family and nothing but her dead-end job to keep her busy in this life-sucking, coffin of a vault. She felt like a wild animal in a cage, forced to pace back and forth, wasting away for the rest of her existence, watching the world outside move on without her.

Butch was still grinning at her triumphantly as he brushed the hair out of his face and put his fists up, calling her on. She wanted to punch him, to scream, maybe even pull out her hair. But if she hit him he’d just hit back and then they’d be here all night and they’d both get in trouble and she’d have to deal with sore knuckles and a black eye at work, or her father lecturing her about behaving like a child or having to pay another fine of ration coupons. Maybe Butch could get his weekly kick out of picking a fight with her and go on his way, but it just left her empty. She didn’t want to deal with it and she didn’t want to let him get his way.

She let out a frustrated growl and turned, swinging a heavy-handed punch into the metal wall behind her. She heard a sickening crunch and hot pain flared up her arm as she cried out in pain. She cradled her arm, mentally noting that her knuckles had probably broken, and turned back around. Butch’s mouth was agape like a fish, staring at her in disbelief. 

“Fuck you. Don’t talk to me anymore.” She said simply and spit on the ground in front of him, holding her broken hand and turning to walk away. He didn’t follow her, and when she got to her apartment, she clenched her broken hand into a fist and punched the wall once again for good measure before going to her room and closing the door behind her.

Only when she was collapsed into bed did her hand begin to throb, her broken skin burning at the contact of her sheets. She’d have her dad look at it in the morning – it was probably broken or sprained, but that meant she’d get out of work for a few weeks at best. Sure she’d lose a decent chunk of her ration coupons as punishment, but she didn’t give a fuck about anything at this point. All she wanted to do was lay in bed and rot.


End file.
